Titan Amongst Pandora
by Goat13
Summary: The Boy-who-lived, The man-who-conquered, The Chosen One. In this world he had another name. Titan...


This story was one that had been stuck in my mind a long time. It was essentially me wondering what would happen if a male could use the powers of a Pandora. Only instead of inserting an OC, I decided to make it a crossover with Harry Potter. Before I go on with the story I just want to point out some things.

When I started the chapter I had just read up to chapter 120 of Freezing and as a result this first chapter was especially gruesome. I felt that I added gory details just because it was gory. As a result I'm going to hold back on some of the gory stuff in the future chapter, I just needed to get this out of my system.

Another thing is the magic used. In canon of HP, magic is never really researched. That is why so many people use terms such as Magic Core and other made up stuff. I feel that if you are going to use a franchise as scientific as Freezing then you have to use some scientific terms to refer to the other franchise. As a result I will use magic core and other fan-terms quite extensively. You have been warned.

**TAP**

If there was one thing he had learnt over the years of being Harry Potter then it was the fact that his life could never be normal. From even before he was born it was prophesized that his life would suck. Because seriously, what kind of nutcase would let a minor without any training whatsoever fight against a dark lord with decades of experience with dark arts and rituals just because a prophecy made by a drunk phony said so? He had always known Dumbledore was losing it in his old age, but he should have sensed that something was wrong with the plan considering he had about more than seventeen years to prepare.

He was getting a bit off topic though. Being Harry Potter carried its fair share of benefits, he had to admit that. He had women throwing themselves at him, quite literary in fact. Romilda Vane had on several occasions tried to surprise him in bed, something he would normally appreciate if it weren't for the fact that the woman was not only daft, but also a little psychotic. He was reminded of his conversation with his godfather when Sirius told him the ancient Black family motto; "Never put thine scrotum in the depths of madness." Come to think of it, Sirius might have been having a laugh at the time, but his lessons did help from time to time. Add the fact that not a single person alive would choose Romilda Vane as a bed partner when the recently divorced Fleur Delacour was around and the slightly unhinged schoolgirl was left disappointed. He and fleur had become close friends after the war, some might way they were "joined at the hip."

The benefits never outweighed the disadvantages though. Having dark wizards send trained assassins after you for months after you defeated the dark lord was an absolute pain the arse, especially when you're trying to get your life back in order. He had studied like mad in order to skip having to repeat a year at Hogwarts and had been able to pass with flying colours, almost as good as Hermione.

_He was firing curses after curses at the death eaters, bringing up a shield for a slight fraction of a second only long enough to stop a blood-boiling curse sent his way before he started tearing the death eater captain to pieces with his modified blasting hex. Dodging out of the way of a killing curse, he sent a slicing curse in response. He was greeted by the sound of a neck slicing open._

_Damn he was good. He should be getting a new nickname for this. Screw Boy-who-lived, screw Man-who-conquered, screw The chosen one._

_He was Dirty Harry, wandslinging badass!_

_Okay, he had to admit it, it sounded a lot less dirty in his head when he first thought of it._

_Still, it was suspicious. How the hell had death eaters managed to enter the Ministry without detection? Let alone_ _gain access to the Department of Mysteries? The whole thing reeked of treachery._

Almost immediately he had joined the English quidditch team. Apparently a scout had seen his last play against Slytherin and when he graduated at the top of his class, if you ignore Hermione as almost all purebloods did, he was apparently prime scouting material for whatever industry there was in magical Europe. Unfortunately, most industries simply wanted him as their poster boy to promote their product, including the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. Amelia Bones had been an honourable woman, but Percy had nothing on her in terms of competence and ethics. He had practically demanded Harry start promoting the aurors as the most efficient department in the ministry, despite the fact that it had taken a steep drop in arrests since his rise to office.

That conversation had ended with Percy having a face almost as red as the robes he wore. Harry had wanted to punch the man, but his recent progress in Occlumency had stopped him. He really needed find a way to thank Fleur; she was a much better teacher than Snape could ever hope to be.

Still, the life of a quidditch star was not what he had hoped it to be. The days of him flying because it was fun were past and his days were replaced with mindless talk of strategy and discussions. Unlike the practice at Hogwarts where the goal was to actually practice, professional quidditch seemed to focus on learning how to take advantage of the opponent's weaknesses and how to tackle without the referee noticing. Gone were the fun and excitement of the sport, replaced by the dark greed of the victory.

He weathered the mentality for a year, but the constant demand for him to cheat and tackle was simply too much for a teen who had hated the act from the moment he was born. After a match against Bulgaria and a close victory against Krum, Harry was able to speak with the former Durmstrang student and learnt that every team in the professional world had the same way of thinking. He left the quidditch world as a result and was later asked to join the Unspeakables, though for reasons left unknown as he had never shown any reason to want to join it. They soon gave him reason though as they wanted him to study the veil.

_The Veil._

_It was the centre of all the Unspeakables. The crown jewel of their work. All the research in the Department of Mysteries originated from and is directed towards The Veil. Even the Hall of Prophecies is derived from the Veil as it was discovered to create a connection between the veil and the seers each time a prophecy is made. _

_Right now Harry was duelling ten death eaters around The Veil and stopping them from coming near it. Even Harry was thinking it was looking bad, though the odds were alleviated somewhat by the fact that half of them were inexperienced by his standards. Still he did not like the fact that for every wizard he took down, another was there to replace him. Even as he took down a death eater with a cutting hex, the next one was just feet away from him and swinging an oversized scythe at him._

_Scythe?_

"_McNair, is that you?" He asked after he dodged a swipe from the large blade. "I thought you were executed after the battle." He said while blasting the man into the wall._

_The death eater/executioner coughed up some blood before grinning at Harry, blood staining his already yellow rotten teeth. The years had not been kind to him. Neither had Harry's blasting hex been. "Malfoy got me out of the prison and replaced me with a mudblood. Told me to lay low while he got revenge for our lord. He was the one who bribed the Unspeakables to leave the department while we entered. You got betrayed, Potter! By your own co-worke- UGH!" _

_Whatever he was about to say after that was interrupted by Harry's slicing curse cutting through the top part of his skull, cleaving his head above the eyes and leaving him with less brains than a squirrel. Not that it made much difference; the purebloods these days didn't have that much intelligence to start with._

_If that was all then he could have dealt with it. He could theorize Draco's desire to kill him. Harry had inherited the Potter and Black fortunes, while Draco had spent most of his gold getting out of prison. For the spoiled brat to suddenly live like the Weasley's was not something the blonde ponce could handle it seemed. Considering that Draco was, quite sadly, Harry's closest blood relative and he would inherit the gold of two Ancient and Noble families probably made the opportunity too much to resist for the dumb brat. As if he thought Harry hadn't already made a will if he was killed in an unexpected manner. _

_He had cleaned out his vaults in the Potter and Black name in Gringotts. After the break-in and the theft of a dragon, the goblins were still outraged at his actions. He wouldn't out it past them to seize his finances in revenge. The only thing Draco would gain from his automatic inheritance was two Knuts, on from each vault. Harry's properties were given to different orphanages and hospitals in order increase not only magical, but also muggle lives. His seats in the Wizengamot were given to Neville in his will so there wouldn't be a single thing left for the dumb ponce._

_He almost lost himself in thought and paid for it in the form of a curse cutting his hand and almost severing it at the wrist. Cursing himself for thinking too much in battle, he stopped the blood with a minor healing spell and focused on getting rid of the vermin in front of him. Casting several powerful curses involving broken bones, ruptured organs and heavy internal bleeding, he quickly defeated the death eaters left in the room. Dropping to a knee, he tried to catch his breath. He hadn't had such a workout in months. It looked like a trip to Hogwarts was in order; the Room of Requirement could help him get the kinks out of his duelling._

_Creating several ropes he tied the surviving death eaters into several groups and used a portkey to transport them to the holding cells in Grimmauld place. He, Neville, Ron and Hermione had created the cells in order to store anyone they needed to interrogate any prisoners on the field. Only they could access and after Ron had died they had discovered the death eaters responsible for it locked inside the cells. Even though he had died from the battle, he still had the willpower to send the prisoners to be interrogated. Say what you want about the guy, once he set his mind to something he finished it._

The Veil was the thing that had killed his uncle, but he had never discovered just what it was that had killed him. It was just a veil standing in a room. What qualities did the piece of cloth and stone have that could kill a human and transport the body? It was a mystery; one Harry was interested in, if only to finally close that chapter of his life.

As it was he found out quite a lot of what the veil did. It generated an unstable chronological containment field around itself. While most would think the word unstable would signify something dangerous, in this case it was almost harmless. The few metres around The Veil seemed to have a different temporal equation of variable quantities. In layman terms it meant that the space around The Veil aged differently. Harry had once spent several hours examining the thing, but his colleagues had seen him work for only fifteen minutes. On the other hand, John Greenstone had worked on the thing for an entire day, but had said he had just started working when they pulled him out of its reach. The temporal axis was never consistent; it changed every time someone entered its area of effect. This might have been the reason the Order of Phoenix had been able to save them in his fifth year. They had only been duelling around it for a few minutes, but somehow the Order had managed to catch up to them despite the fact that they were hours behind them.

Though in the end the research was nowhere near done. Aside from the time-effects there were countless others as well. It could damage the people going near it; it could heal the people near it. Empower and weaken, freeze and incinerate, implode and explode, all of these effects could happen to those who stepped just a few feet to close to the strange thing.

In fact the only one who The Veil hadn't been able to hurt yet was Harry, though that might have been because Harry had been in enough life-threatening situations to avoid risking it. The newer recruits seemed to think it was a test of courage to get as close to it as possible. He had heard from the Head of the department that every year had someone landed in St Mungo's. Harry didn't fancy looking like Moody, even if he did respect the man's skills as a dueller.

_A green bolt of light shot towards him and the only reason he was able to dodge it completely was because his almost severed hand was out of angle to be hit. If it had been attached as it normally would, the killing curse would have struck his hand. Though to be honest, if the hand had been attached to his wrist like it should have been then he would have been delirious form blood loss and shock._

"_Not so high and mighty now are you, Potter?" Malfoy's annoying voice came from the shadows. He was dressed in fine robes as usual, but one could see the fraying at the edges, the wear-and-tear on his shoes. He was still trying to display the image of being a wealthy pureblood, even now when his hired hands were disposed off._

"_You know, Draco, if you want to meet me in dark people are going to get the wrong idea. And I'm afraid I must decline, no matter how much you act and dress like a girl, I will never see you as one and our relationship will never be more than the Man-who-conquered and the Ferret of Hogwarts." The ferret was one of Draco's most known nicknames, originating from the time he was transformed into one in their fourth year. It was made worse when it was discovered to be his animagus form as well._

_He really had to find a way to thank George for creating the animagus-revealing candy. Seeing Draco transform into a ferret in the middle of a Wizengamot meeting was a memory worthy of a pensieve._

"_Shut up, Potter! Don't you get it? I'm going to kill you! When you're dead I will inherit all your gold and seats. Do you think mocking me will save you?" He yelled, eyes wide with fury. He was shaking and the eyes seemed to be… red?_

_That little fuck! He was using stimulants and boosters to increase his magical energy. While a Draco with slightly stronger spell was not that dangerous, the side effect of using them however was a lack of empathy and fear and increased anger. It looked like Draco had learned since his failure to kill Dumbledore. He knew he couldn't kill a human straight out so he used potions to remove his fear of killing. While it did help his mental resolve, it was just like any other drug. It destroyed your mind after prolonged use. _

_Fighting a wizard with no fear of death, loss of higher brain functions and increased magical energy in a room filled with dangerous magical artefacts was never a good idea. Even if he was skilled at duelling, fighting a berserker was best done in a non-fragile environment. The death eaters at least had enough common sense to avoid the artefacts, but it didn't look like Draco knew much at the moment except that he wanted to kill Harry Potter._

"_You know Draco, I didn't think you were this stupid" If he was going to die from an explosion of unknown magical proportions then at least he was going to do it with a bang. Maybe he should pay attention to the problem at hand instead of thinking up horrible puns. "You were always stupid, yes, but not to this level. Are you sure your family didn't have troll blood in their veins?" _

_The blonde ponce snarled and pointed his wand at Harry. Get him to fire the first spell, deflect it back at the idiot and maybe, maybe he could get out of this alive…_

_At this moment fate decided to prove just how wring Harry could be…_

"_Lord Potter, sir, I mean… Sir Potter, sir!" He heard to his left._

_Fucking damn it! Can't something in his life go the way he planned it for once?_

_Looking to the left he could see the short figure of Sarah Janesly, the daughter of the Department Head. She had joined the department after graduating Hogwarts and was give the status of Intern. Why the Department of Mysteries would have interns he never knew, but she was apparently a seer and it was reason enough to overlook protocol. Having a seer close to the department could be good for the future, but at the moment it didn't look like anything good could come out of her arrival._

_The nervous figure reminded him of Luna in a way, only instead of being dreamy and distant, she was nervous and fidgety. He had taken her under his wing and she had developed an attachment to him it seemed, probably because her father was a distant failure of a parental figure and so thought of him as a replacement._

_Malfoy saw her as well and didn't like her apparently. He raised his wand and fired a neon-red light of the Evisceration curse._

There had been a lot of talk about him when he seemingly disappeared after he left the English team. The public found out he had emptied his vaults and wondered where he kept the enormous fortune. Some tried to break into his house to find it, not knowing he kept it all in a bottomless and weightless pouch on his person. He had to double the wards around his house when the break-ins started to become too organized, too professional to be greedy civilians. These were curse-breakers, from Gringotts it seemed. The evidence became too clear when he fought against one of them and crippled the intruder after a long duel which set fire to a third of his home. Bill Weasley was left crippled for the rest of his life after he took a cutting hex to his spine during the attack.

The event was one he had never foreseen. Sure, he could understand if Bill was mad at him for sleeping with Fleur, but it was Bill's fault that they divorced in the first place. Trying to get into Gabrielle's pants during her birthday party was not acceptable behaviour and it was apparently not the first time Bill had been caught with other girls, if what Fleur's words were honest. Bill had told his family a much edited version that painted Fleur and Harry as the bad guys and the Weasleys bought it. He was thrown out of the Burrow before he could defend himself and they hadn't spoken since.

He had talked to Fleur and Gabrielle afterwards and they didn't' blame him. Gabrielle was even happy that the much older man was in a wheelchair after what he had tried to do against the girl's wishes. Nevertheless, the Delacour girls had to leave Britain due to the rumours surrounding the duo combined with Britain's hatred of halfbreeds. Despite the public's view of muggleborns and halfbloods having improved somewhat after the war, the view on Veelas and werewolves were not so fortunate.

_The curse flew towards the young girl at speeds a normal person wouldn't be able to react to. Sarah had not noticed the curse as she was running to the only person she could recognize, the tears in her eyes clouding her vision. When she saw the light heading her way her expression changed into one of surprise as she stopped in shock._

_Harry launched himself across the room, reaching speeds he had never needed before. The same thought echoed in his skull the entire time he was running:_

_`Fucking Malfoy! Fucking Malfoy! Fucking Malfoy! Fuck…!_

_He reached Sarah just before the curse did, though how he did it he had no idea. Most likely it involved some kind of apparition summoning spell he had unknowingly used in desperation. He reached out his hand to move the intern out of the way, his hand pushing the girl several feet instead due to the speed he was moving at. _

_The moment the girl was out of the way he realized where he was. He had not pushed the girl away; he had simply changed places with her. The curse struck his chest and he felt pain erupt all over his body._

_The evisceration curse was a nasty piece of work. It combined three different spells into a single compact curse at the price of a lot of magic energy. The first was a slicing curse. It carved a long gash from the abdomen up to the collarbone. The cut was deep enough to break through the bones and muscles of the ribs and was deadly enough on its own._

_The second spell was the ripping hex. It was a very primitive magic, one invented several thousand years ago when magic was just being discovered and people still believed it was the gift of gods. The ripping hex was made to rap small tears into larger ones. A simple paper cut could become a flesh wound, one of the reasons it was later forbidden due to the clearly malicious intent behind it._

_The third spell was in fact the summoning charm, Accio. It worked by summoning the object intended, in this case the guts and internal organs, and tearing them out. A deadly use of the simple fourth year charm._

_The combination of these spells meant Harry's chest had been carved open, torn apart and his internal organs ripped out in a very painful manner. The force of the curse sent him backwards, pushing him towards The Veil. He was able to maintain his standing position somewhat, his useless left hand holding his bloody entrails from spilling out entirely. _

"_What's wrong, Potter? Tired from just a little exercise like that? Pathetic! You're pathetic, you know that?!" Malfoy screamed while he waved his arms around, saliva dripping from his mouth. It looked like he had overdosed the potions. If he didn't go to a hospital soon eh would die from stroke or heart attack. _

_Not that Harry would let him suffer from such a long and painful death._

_He raised his wand and, since his lungs had been harmed in the overpowered curse and were not capable of pushing air through his vocal cords, worddlessly cast the Avada Kedavra._

_Harry was not a very hateful person. He hated a few people, but who didn't? Harry had spent most of his life abused and manipulated so he knew the power behind hatred, but he wasn't a hateful person. The killing curse, Avada Kedavra, required a lot of hatred to work and it was simply too inefficient for Harry to try and use it on the field. The incantation was long, the feeling required was too unnecessary to be effective, and the vivid colour was too recognizable to trick the opponent into thinking it was something else._

_But now… he hated Draco. With every fibre of his being, he hated Draco. Fuck the laws, fuck the public, and fuck the power of love and all that bullshit! Draco was going to die tonight and he was making damn sure it was by Harry's hand._

_The light of emerald green flew through the air and straight towards the drugged up blonde. He didn't even notice it until it struck and he collapsed onto the hard wooden floor, probably cracking his skull, not that he ever needed it._

_The blood loss and the lack of oxygen getting to him, didn't really feel any pain anymore. It was dulled and restrained. He knew it was there, it just didn't hurt._

"_Umm, Mr Potter? Are you…?" Sarah asked him. She had most likely noticed his injuries were beyond her ability. _

_He smiled. At least he thought it was a smile, he was losing control over his muscles by the second so he wasn't sure what kind of expression he was showing right now. It was obviously not enough for the girl as she started crying the moment she saw it. Oh for the love of… can't he just make the girls happy for once? Why is it people can't write a book on how to handle women? Every time he talked to women it seemed they just spontaneously burst into tears. _

_He reached out to pat her head and she stopped crying for the moment. The tears flowed down her face like a waterfall, but at least her sobs subsided. He gave her three pats on her head though his poor hand-to-eye coordination made it seem like he was just ruffling her head at this point. That was when he started swaying back…_

_And fell through The Veil_

That was his life.

He had spent the first eleven years being abused and hated while the later seven years were a mixture between pointless gossip, religious hatred and constant demand for him to risk his life for The Greater Good. Not something he would have wished on anyone, with the possible exception for Snape.

He really didn't like Snape.

Though at least he was able to save someone in his final moments. It was something of a family tradition, or at least he had been told it was. If he had time in the afterlife he should have to check up on it. Maybe talk to some of his ancestors, check up on how they died. At least the ones who ended up in the same place as was going to. Come to think of it, where was he going? He had plenty of premarital sex and he did kill quite a lot of people in his last year alive. In his defence, of the latter issue it was in self-defence. The prior one, not so much.

Still the scenery was very odd. He was in a large field, with the wind blowing the grass down to the ground. In the horizon he could see a forest and the sky was blue with not a cloud to be seen. Was this heaven? There weren't any pools of lava or pits of fire as far as he could see. If it was heaven it was kind of lame, but if it was hell it was quite lame. Was he somewhere in the middle? A third palce where…

His thoughts were interrupted by a large explosion a few feet away from him, showering him with dirt and grass. Looking around him he saw the source of the explosion.

A large black and purple behemoth stood a few dozen meters away from him. Though it showed some human characteristics, it could not be called humanoid at all. The form was covered by some kind of armour and the arm were made of several appendages that twisted and coiled in the air. The only thing that was clearly human was the lower part of the face, which showed a human mouth as cheeks. Even as he stared at it, the appendages started moving and… Oh shit.

He jumped out of the way just in time to dodge the sharp tentacles that embedded themselves into the ground, only to rip into a mass of dirt, stone and grass when they pulled themselves out of it in the most violent way possible.

Hell, hell, it was definitely hell he had gone to. While he had heard angels were originally warriors of god there was no possible way that thing was an angel by any meaning of the word. It was a demon, a monster, a step-father who realized you slept with his daughter.

And people wondered why he stayed single…

He ran as fast as his legs could. He would have tried to apparate, but apparition required standing still and a calm mind and the moment he stood still those thin pieces of sharpness would slice him into tiny pieces of meat.

He was about to take another step when he felt a strange sensation flow through his body. It was alien in nature, but it seemed to take the form of a magic ward. It paralyzed his body, yet forced it to remain standing. He had experienced something similar once, it was a nostalgic feeling.

The feeling of time manipulation.

The demon was capable bending or freezing time. Though it only seemed to be a weaker version of the ones timeturners were capable of. Instead of bending time or reversing it, the demon could only freeze it in a physical way. His mind was still capable of thought and his magic was still functional. He tried apparating, but the time ward was capable of stopping his physical body of leaving. Retreat was impossible, he thought. If he couldn't' retreat…

Then he had to attack.

The appendages flew towards him, but his Protego halted them in their advance. Despite the shield however, the tentacles were slowly breaking through his shield. No matter he just needed them to slow down for a second.

His wand was his normal focus when using magic, but not the only one. Wandless magic was not unheard of, but incredible hard to use. Wand movements were used to channel the magic into a form much easier, something wandless magic didn't have. When using hands to cast spells one had to rely on verbal casting and will to craft the spell into the desired power and form, something the wand movements did for you.

But Harry was rather known for being a powerful wizard as a child so it shouldn't have come as a surprise when his Reducto tore the appendages into little slivers. Using his hands as mediums to cast his spells he flung Reducto after Reducto at the behemoth. The monster used its tentacles to intercept, but the hexes ore the thin appendages into tiny shards.

Harry was quite proud of himself. His hands were stuck in place so the spells were slightly weaker than the ones he could use if he physically threw the spells. Still it didn't really do that much damage and the tentacles seemed to regenerate. He needed to… what was it doing?

Until now the thing had remained where he had first seen it. It hadn't moved and he was wondering if it wasn't rooted to the ground. Now however, half of the tentacles had stabbed into the ground and were lifting the demon off the ground and moving it closer to him. Was it trying to crush him? If the tentacles weren't doing the job it would physically smash him to mush?

He didn't want that. He had so many things to do before he was crushed to paste by a demon of unknown sex. At least let it be a female demon. He couldn't live with himself if it was a male demon that was going to crush him with it lower part.

Increasing the pace at which he was cursing, he included several other spells to increase effectivity. Cutting hexes, blasting curses, fire and wind spells, heck he even threw in a killing curse, but it didn't do squat to the large monster.

It didn't stop moving, but the appendages weren't able to block the spells sent at it anymore and the main body seemed to show signs of damage. Actually, didn't it seem to be hurt already? The part around it left should showed signs of damage, as if it should have had a second arm full of tentacles and the armour was definitely cracked. Now that he was seeing it closer and more carefully, it looked like someone had put it through the ringer already. And most of the damage was focused on the chest area.

More specifically around the large orb in it chest.

Deciding to take a chance it aimed his curses at the orb, hoping to kill it fast. His Protego was starting to wear down and the few tentacles that were getting close to him were leaving sizable cracks in the shield. He had sent his strongest curse at the monster just as two of the tentacles sliced through the shield.

The exploding curse was aimed straight at the orb of the monster. The few tentacles that were trying to intercept it were destroyed in the process, but did nothing to stop the path of the large golden light. It impacted on the glass-looking part and created an explosion that made him think of a firework from George's shop. The demon didn't' scream, it just looked apathetic at the human who had struck its apparent weak point.

Not that Harry had fared any better. The appendages which had managed to slice through the shield had gone through his body like it was nothing. Both had ripped through his lungs and narrowly missed his heart. He felt his lungs fill with liquid and he coughed, blood spilling out of his mouth.

"Well, shit… Am I supposed to die in hell?" he wheezed out, his punctured lung taking a toll on his verbal skills.

The monster in the air finally showed some movement, but not the hostile kind. It simply started cracking. Large cracks showed up in its armour and he started falling… towards Harry.

"So unfair…" he said as the shadow of the behemoth covered him. "…I still get crushed by demon ass."

Then the monster broke and thousands of slivers of demon flesh pelted him as he blacked out.

**TAP**

He heard voices. They were shouting at each other, saying things he couldn't understand. His mind was a blur and he felt sluggish. He tried moving, but in the end all he could do was move his body a few inches until he blacked out again.

"_Captain, we have a civilian here! He's wounded and requires immediate medical care!"_

"_Bring him over he… He's dead, lieutenant. The Nova tissue has infected him too much."_

"_No sir, he's alive! I took his pulse, it's weak but it's there."_

"_What? Impossible, no man can survive Nova tissue after this much infection… You're right. He's alive"_

"_What should we do, captain?"_

"_Get him to a hospital, quick! I'll call HQ and inform them of the situation."_

"_Yes sir!"_

…

"_What is the matter, Captain?"_

"_Doctor Lewey, this man shows extreme infection from Nova tissue yet he is still alive. I need you to make sure he stays that way."_

"_Extreme infection? How extreme are we talking about?"_

"_He should have died from the amount of tissue in his body, not even limiters would be able to withstand the strain."_

"_Oh dear, that is quite the situation. Okay, put him on the table and I'll see what I can do. I'm pretty sure Chevalier is interested in him as well. Have you told them?_

"_I have. They are sending their experts, but it will take them six hours to arrive. Until then I trust you to keep him alive until then."_

"_Well, it's always nice to be trusted."_

…

He felt something cover his face and then it was pure darkness.

**TAP**

Waking up in a hospital was so ordinary to him by this point that he didn't even feel surprised anymore. He had gotten used to the sterile scent of a hospital room before he finished his fourth year so the scent of medicine and the stark white walls felt almost comforting.

Unlike the pain in his chest.

He winced as he moved. There was a tightness in his chest, a pain that increased as he moved. He used his left hand to lift the collar of the hospital gown and checked his chest.

A long scar that went from his abdomen up to his collarbone. It was a long and ugly old thing, barely healed and uneven. It was the thinnest at his stomach and the thickest over his ribcage where it blossomed out to cover most of his chest.

That's right, Malfoy almost killed him. That little tosser! He had even taken drugs to do it, not even knowing the cost of taking too much of them. Either that or the dealer had cheated him and given him low quality potions.

Either way he had a scar accounted for, why the hell did he have two more scars on his chest?

Unlike the long scar from Draco, these were circular. They covered the entirety of his ribcage expanding on the scar in the middle of his chest. All he could think of was…

`_It looks like a retarded version of the Batman symbol.´_

His scar tissue aside, why wasn't he dead? Not only was he injured to the point of death by a ferret on steroids, he had also fought that giant magical beast. His earlier assumption that it was a demon might have been exaggerated due to his confused state of mind. Demons weren't real…

Only overprotective fathers were.

So he had fallen through The Veil after being severely injured. The Veil had somehow healed him and transported him to a field where he fought against a large magical beast. He had once again been severely injured and had blacked out.

Then what?

Judging by the situation he was in, he had been found by someone who had transported him to a hospital capable of healing the injuries he had sustained during the fight. The question was who had found him and what kind of hospital this place was.

It was not a magical hospital. The design was too modern for that to be a possibility. The magical world was known for its fascination, or obsession, with the nineteenth century. They even wore robes for heaven's sake! Any hospital with ties to magic would show signs of not being able to move past primitive equipment due to the mentality of purebloods.

But if it wasn't a magical hospital, how could it have healed his injuries if they were so severe? A muggle hospital should not have the means to heal such wounds. He had spent enough time in a normal hospital during his time with the Dursleys to know that. The magical world was simply to egotistic to share its secrets.

He didn't like this. He had no idea what was going on. He hated not knowing what was happening. It reminded him of his time back at Hogwarts. Being told by Dumbledore not to worry and do as he is told. He needed more information.

Luckily, a nurse just walked through the door. She stopped when she saw he was awake and quickly reached for the phone on the wall.

"Hello, is Doctor Lewey there? Yes, can you please put him on the phone? Hi, it's Nurse Morrison. The patient in the west wing is awake now… I don't know how long, I just entered my shift. I'll call in the guards now so I'll see you in a few minutes. Yes, until then." With that, she hung up and left the room, leaving without even giving Harry a chance to ask her anything.

Though she came back with two guards just seconds later, and judging by their look it wasn't for his own safety they were here.

Why couldn't his life just be simple for once?


End file.
